23. Selfish God
Theos
He was back in Olympus, away from his mate. He walked through the halls of the castle, unable to think straight. Unable to breathe. Unable to hear any of the prayers that were ascending to him. Unable to walk. Unable to swallow. Unable to function .
The bond – it clawed at his every cell, burning through muscle, sinking its fangs into his lungs, decimating his heartbeat – turning it into a sequence of arrhythmias that made him gasp all the more. Everyone was rightfully avoiding him. No one had ever seen him this way, or witnessed him in such a state of utter decline, or incapacity. He’d never been more infuriatingly unstable in all the eons.
He couldn’t focus on anything long enough to feel. His senses were all in overdrive, every sound in all the worlds amplified. The screams and cries of death, the silence of loneliness and despair; it was deafening in his ears. The burn of light, life, fire and hurt. The cold of absence and silence where empty cradles were the only sign that there had been a birth. The loudness of everything that existed at that moment and the aching emptiness of everything that was yet to be. He was crushed under its weight.
Haera was deep in the clutches of grief. She had rejected his touch – asked for space. She’d asked to be alone . It had knifed him in the heart, scoring him open like the suns behind his throne did to the universe. He had stood, dumbfounded, staring at her for what had felt to him like an eternity. But he had conceded. He could do nothing but.
He tried to breathe deeply as he walked, and it failed to quell the roiling anxious energy that was surging through him. Alone. She wanted to be alone. She preferred to be alone than to be with him. She preferred to be alone, crying, trying to huddle herself, than to let him comfort her. Whatever trust had been between them was gone.
He crumpled to his knees.
A long coat and tightly laced boots brushed by him.
Kheos.
He looked up, watching his brother continue down the hallway past him as though he wasn’t even there. He was the only god who hadn’t cowered away from him as soon as he’d manifested in the castle. Everyone else was on edge; cautiously retreating down the hallway they had come whenever they crossed paths with him.
But Theos could smell Kheos’ scent intimately as his brother brushed by. He was the delicate scent of fresh innocent grass after the rains. The musky, heavy scent of power and unjustly shed blood. The light, complete absence of fear.
The raging in his body pulled his attention away from Kheos’ retreating frame, and he hunched over, leaning his head down so that it pressed against the floor. The bond was surging and thrashing, trembling, and twisting even more in the face of its maker. The Fates was responsible for mate bonds, and Theos suddenly wondered whether coming to Olympus had been a mistake. As he let the pain rocket through him, helpless to what was clearly about to be an infinitely painful separation from Haera, he heard Kheos’ footsteps slow, then stop. His brother’s presence was still in the hallway. Theos felt him turn to look back at him, then glance down the hallway where he had been heading.
Hesitation tainted the air around them.
───
Kheos & Theos
Kheos stared at Theos’ kneeling frame, his brows slowly pulling together. He had swept by his brother on his way to his favourite balcony over which to watch the planets as they meandered by, each on its own axis. Theos’ kneeling frame had meant little to him when he had first seen him.
Now, Kheos felt the surges and flashes of the writhing bond in Theos’ heart. The bonds he gifted to mortals were like his children. He heard each squeal they made, felt each flutter, each drop. It was how he kept track of them to rip them away from ones who abused them. They were never meant to be in pain.
“Why are you separated from your mate?” he called out.
Theos didn’t reply, but Kheos saw his jaws tighten as the bond in his brother swelled with pain as though it were on the verge – ready to explode. Kheos’ heart dropped into his gut. His steps were loud as he rushed back down the hallway to his brother.
“Theos!” he hissed. “Where is your mate? Why did you leave her?”
Unsurprisingly, Theos scoffed. “Does the mighty Fates need me to tell him the events of the worlds?”
Kheos ignored the jab only barely. Skirting around to Theos’ side so that he wasn’t standing in front of Theos while he knelt, he hissed again. “The Fates know all things that were, are, and will be. But you are hurting –”
“Congratulations.” Came Theos’ bitter reply.
Kheos’ eyes widened. “Do you really th –” he growled under his breath, mumbling to himself in the ancient language he kept for himself only. “You are not meant to carry the weight of your bond alone, Theos. Why did you leave your mate? ”
There was silence for a long time. Kheos’ fists tightened at his sides where he was standing. Theos’ jaws were once more locked, the surges of pain from the bond overwhelming his voice. Giving up on the pretence, Kheos dropped to his knees beside his older brother.
“You’ll hurt yourself.” He chided, reaching for Theos’ arm.
“I’m afraid it’s far too late for such considerations.” Theos answered through still locked jaws. He tried to yank his arm away from Kheos and failed. Kheos’ grip was unbreakable.
“It’s going to hurt to watch you destroy her.”
The pain in Theos’ body surged at that implication. He forced himself upright to glare at his brother. “ What are you talking about? I would never destroy her.”
Kheos shook his head at him. “You will.”
The words were quiet in the hallway, and Theos stared at him with narrowed eyes until they slowly widened the longer Kheos remained silent.
“You still haven’t told her.” Kheos prompted.
Theos’ brows pulled together in confusion, before his eyes darkened with rage. “How could I? ”
For a long moment, Kheos stared at his older brother. Then, he stood, turned down the hallway and walked away.
“All these syrises,” he whispered to himself, “and you still do not understand how the bond you longed for so desperately was engineered.” Kheos paused, turning to look back at his brother only once. As he expected, Theos was already glaring at him. “Mate bonds self-destruct when they are not consummated. The longer you wait, the more you open her up to danger. Attacks will begin to come out of nowhere. You are tempting every possible disaster, Theos.” He continued down the hallway. “All these syrises you have pined for her. And still, though I have made you wait, in hopes that you would change, you are still nothing but a selfish god.”
Theos glared at him, but the expression turned into a grimace of pain almost immediately.
“There is a way to ease your suffering, though I doubt that you will take it.” Kheos continued after a long pause.
“And what might that be?” Theos grit out through clenched teeth.
“Ask me to make it stop.”
The growl that ripped out of Theos’ throat was lethal. “Over my dead body.” He snarled .
Kheos shook his head, looking down at the marble. “No, Your Majesty,” he answered. “Over hers.” He turned back to the balcony, walking forward and leaving Theos to his methods.
“I’ll never forgive you.” Theos whispered into the silence.
“You have despised me since the beginning of time. That means nothing to me now.”